


Fighting My Brother

by DebbieF



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 00:15:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7991542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebbieF/pseuds/DebbieF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking a break between my 2 on-going series for another stand alone.</p><p>++++</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fighting My Brother

_Around Noon - Musketeer Garrison_

Leaving the stables behind them, the inseparables were heading for Captain Treville's office to report their mission a success when they heard a commotion coming from the canteen.

"We ain't been gone that long and now it looks like we're missin' all the fun," Porthos grinned at his two brothers.

"Mmmmm," Aramis hummed in agreement. "Perhaps d'Artagnan could tell us what is going on."

"Our Gascon was the lucky one not having to go along with us this last time," Athos said. "A most boring assignment."

"Yet our pup was quite sad to be left behind, mon frere," Aramis reminded him.

"Kid's afraid he'd miss out on all the excitement," Porthos chuckled deeply, earning a baleful eye from Athos.

"Excitement... pfft!" Athos snorted with disdain. "Delivering a letter to the Duke de Lassus, the crotchety old fool" he rolled his eyes. "Didn't even recognize the pauldrons on our shoulders."

"Aye!" Porthos' eyes danced. "Thought we was just messenger boys for the king."

"Our youngest didn't miss a thing," Aramis smiled at them.

"Let us see Treville first then we shall seek out d'Artagnan," Athos took the stairs leading to the balcony with Aramis and Porthos bringing up the rear. When he knocked on the door there was no answer. Glancing at his brothers both of them shrugged their shoulders. "He must be out."

"Then by all means let us find d'Artagnan," Aramis led the way down the steps.

++++

Still not having found their Gascon, the inseparables decided to see what was going on over in Serge's domain. Drawing closer they noted a group of Musketeers gathered outside of the canteen.

"Gagnon," Athos drew the other soldier aside, "what is happening?"

Knowing that the inseparables had been on a mission, Gagnon didn't know how to tell them. Seeing his captain coming toward them he was relieved knowing that Treville would explain things. With a signal from the captain Gagnon stepped aside to make room for him.

"Gents," Treville greeted them, seeing the curious expressions his men wore.

"Sir," Athos spoke next, "is something amiss inside the canteen?"

"Tis an understatement, Athos," Treville didn't know any other way but to be perfectly honest with his men, especially these three. "Caron is inside holding four of my men hostage."

"Caron," Aramis repeated dumbly. "He seemed fine before we left."

"Bien," Treville ran a hand over the top of his head, feeling his thinning hairline, "things change."

"What Musketeers?" Porthos growled.

He couldn't avoid this forever, so Treville told them. "Willeme, Viel, Ewart," he took a deep breath, "and d'Artagnan."

"Merde!" Athos turned right around and was about to charge into the canteen but was held back by Porthos, Aramis and Treville. "Let me go!"

"NON!" Treville roared. "You'll only make things worse the way you are now!"

Shaking everyone off, Athos whirled around on Treville. "When did this begin?"

"Early this morn," Treville said. "Most of the men were inside eating breakfast. D'Artagnan and the others were the last ones remaining when Caron suddenly went crazy."

"I remember when Caron got injured a few weeks back when 'is unit got attacked," Porthos was lost in thought. "Vipond was in charge of that squad because he told me that Doctor Devereaux wouldn't release Caron back to him until he was satisfied the man's head injury wasn't going to give Caron problems."

"Tis what I'm afraid has happened," Treville admitted to them.

"What of the others inside?" Aramis was worried for his brothers. The men inside were the youngest of the recruits but d'Artagnan was their pup.

"From what we can gather Caron's injured all of them in some manner," Treville's eyes flicked to Athos. Seeing the storm brewing there, he honestly didn't know how to calm him.

"Is Serge in there with them?" Athos didn't know how to proceed. They couldn't just rush in there. If Caron was as bad off as he thought then Athos and the others needed some viable plan that wouldn't get the other lads injured further.

"Caron had the sense to kick Serge out," Treville waited while Athos pulled Porthos and Aramis aside. Knowing those three they probably were hatching out a plan.

++++

_Inside the canteen_

"Here I thought becoming a Musketeer meant fighting for king and country," Ewart snorted, "not _fighting_ my brother," he cradled his injured arm. Caron had thrown a chair at him and he had held up his right arm to prevent it from hitting him in the head.

"Caron's sick," d'Artagnan said, worried about his own injury. His sword hand was bleeding and swollen. They had no medical supplies with which to tend it other than what clean water Serge had left in his kitchen. But Caron wouldn't even let them go that far. "He and I had been talking a few days ago and I know his head was paining him greatly."

"You believe that's what's caused him to go nuts?" Viel asked, rubbing his left leg. Both he and d'Artagnan had gotten on the wrong end of Caron's sword which explained their current injuries.

"I agree with d'Artagnan," Willeme's right eye was beginning to swell from where Caron had punched him. "Caron's not responsible. Not really."

"Responsible or not," Ewart hissed, "right now he's out of control and we might not get out of this alive!"

Trying not to think about it, Willeme looked over at the young Gascon again. "How you doing there?" He could see the makeshift bandage, made from strips of d'Artagnan's shirt, were already soaked through with blood.

"Been better," d'Artagnan winced, "much better as a matter of fact."

"Shame you couldn't have gone on that assignment with the others, eh, d'Artagnan?" Viel threw out both hands. "See what you would have missed."

"Yeah," d'Artagnan worried about his hand. It hurt like a bitch and there was nothing he or the others could do about it. "I'm not going to live this down once they get back and discover what trouble I've found this time," he huffed a small laugh, "and without them either."

" _STOP TALKING!_ " Caron yelled. "All of you! Just stop!" he grabbed his head. "Mon Dieu! Tis killing me!"

"Anyone feeling brave to take on the crazy man here?" Ewart's arm was aching something awful.

"We're the walking wounded," Willeme scoffed. "We can't take Caron down like this."

"Then let us pray someone outside can," d'Artagnan added softly.

++++

_Back outside of the canteen_

"I've found some loose boards back of the canteen," Porthos signaled for Aramis, Captain Treville and Athos to follow him.

"Wait, Porthos," Treville held up his hand then trotted over to another group of Musketeers. "Gagnon, Monette and Paquet, I want you three to stay right here in case we get inside and need help." Then he turned to Tasse and Sartre. "Follow me." Then he waved Porthos and the others on as they went behind the building.

Seeing the area Porthos had talked about Athos and the other men stood back while his large brother carefully and quietly pulled the loose boards away, until there was a big enough opening for the men to crawl through.

"Come on," Porthos whispered gruffly, waving them toward the opening. He went through first then Athos followed. Treville went next, then Aramis, Tasse and Sartre.

_In the canteen once more_

The opening led into the kitchen where they had a clear view of Caron and the recruits. Seeing the condition of the younger men, the others realized that none of them were going to be of any use in trying to contain Caron in his madness.

"I feel awful," Ewart moaned.

"Can't say I feel like dancing either," Viel was sitting with his leg propped up on a chair. He too had to make use of his shirt to wrap it around his wound.

"Think of all the work we'll be bringing Devereaux when we get out of this," d'Artagnan attempted a weak jest. Very weak by the bleak looks the others gave him.

"I only have one good working eye right now," Willeme added. "Guess this is one way to get out of Aramis' lessons."

Hearing Willeme's comment, Aramis snickered. "Wait until he feels better."

"I for one will feel _better_ when we contain Caron," Athos hissed. He wasn't in the mood for levity. Not until they get d'Artagnan and the other young recruits into the hands of the Garrison doctor.

"Let's see if I can get the whelp's attention," Porthos grabbed a handful of peas Serge had sitting around in a bowl. Flicking them toward the young Gascon he waited to see if one of them hit its mark.

Feeling something land on his head, d'Artagnan brushed his good hand through his hair. He stared at the ceiling, not seeing anything that would fall on top of him. When he felt something hit his back, d'Artagnan turned slightly in his chair. Noting a dark-skinned face peeking above the kitchen countertop, d'Artagnan's lips tilted upward. Giving Porthos a slight dip of his head, he looked away.

"What's got you all happy, d'Artagnan?" Viel kept his eyes on Caron as the older Musketeer had begun talking to himself.

"Don't look over there but we've got company in the kitchen?" d'Artagnan spoke softly to the other young men.

"Finally," Willeme whispered.

"Amen," Ewart added.

"Someone's going to have to pick me up," Viel said with a sideways look at d'Artagnan.

"Don't worry," d'Artagnan leaned toward the other man, "Porthos is with them."

"They look awful," Sartre shared the same look of shock with Tasse.

"Anyone have a plan?" Aramis looked from one brother to another and finally to his captain.

"Rush 'em,' Porthos grunted. "I sure as 'ell ain't gonna shoot a sick brother."

"None of us want that," Athos just wanted to end this without anyone else getting hurt.

It was if d'Artagnan had heard his mentor's thoughts. He stood up, with a scrape of his chair, to face a ranting Caron.

Trying to tug on the Gascon's arm, Ewart thought the boy had gone mad as well. "What are you doing? You're as nutty as Caron if you think you can talk to him while he's in this state."

"Tis called a distraction," d'Artagnan smirked. When Ewart dropped his hand, he moved closer to where Caron was.

"Oh non, non, non, non," Aramis moaned. "What the blazes is d'Artagnan thinking?"

"We're hiding behind the kitchen and looking to stay that way," Treville pointed out dryly, refraining from an eyeroll. "If d'Artagnan can get Caron to look the other way it gives us time enough to move out and surround him without Caron hurting anyone further."

"Caron," d'Artagnan said softly, "let us help you," he hoped the Musketeer could hear the sincerity of his words. "Your actions are from your head injury."

"I can't stop the pain!" Caron's eyes filled with tears. "D'Artagnan, I can't!"

Holding his wounded hand close to his chest, d'Artagnan kept up a dialog which had Caron's attention focused on him. Circling Caron while he talked to him, d'Artagnan finally had the older man in position with his back facing the kitchen.

Seeing their opportunity, Porthos, Tasse and Sartre went out from behind the kitchen to the left. While Athos, Aramis and Captain Treville went out to the right. All of them coming at Caron from both sides until they had the Musketeer surrounded.

Backing away from them, d'Artagnan joined his wounded comrades. "Not so _nutty_ after all, eh Ewart?"

"I'll say this for you, d'Artagnan," Ewart shook his head, "you got guts."

"Too much if you ask me," Viel nodded his thanks to the young Gascon. "No wonder I've heard the inseparables grumbling about you giving them grey hair."

Laughter bubbling up inside him, d'Artagan's face was alight with mirth. "Tis my aim in life."

"What is, child," Athos had left the group, seeing Treville had things well in hand now. Taking the boy's injured hand gently he examined it.

"To make you, Porthos and Aramis premature grey," d'Artagnan's lips twitched at the scowl Athos honored him with. Turning his head to the side he winked at Viel. "I never get tired of seeing that reaction from him." While talking with his mentor d'Artagnan observed as Monette and Gagnon came inside to help take Caron away. "I pray that Caron will be well."

"You have a kind heart, child," Athos smiled sadly as he too watched Caron be led away. "Treville will make sure Caron gets the help he needs."

When Aramis joined them he took in all their injuries with one glance. "Too many for me to take care of," he turned to Porthos. "Mon ami," he clapped a hand around one of Porthos' biceps, "I believe Viel at least might need carried over to the infirmary."

"Yeah got that," Porthos picked Viel up like he weighed nothing at all and carried the younger man out of the canteen, leaving the others to take care of the rest of the recruits.

Guiding Ewart and Willeme out the door were Tasse and Sartre. Treville hung back to speak with d'Artagnan.

"Son," Treville placed a hand on the lad's shoulder, "I've never seen anyone find trouble as much as you."

"Tis my calling in life I suppose," d'Artagnan tried to make light of it. But if the fierce glares sent his way, from Aramis and Athos, was anything to go by d'Artagnan knew he was in for another lecture at some point in the future.

"You are not safe to even leave behind at home," Athos growled with a light cuff to the back of the youngster's head.

"I'm glad he doesn't pick on me anymore," Aramis grinned at the lad. "But seriously, d'Artagnan, Athos does have a point."

Holding out his sword hand again d'Artagnan gave them his best puppy dog eyes, along with _the pout_. "Could we pick this up after Doctor Devereaux treats my wound s'il vous plait?"

"Oui," Athos began to lead the young Gascon out into the sunlight. "Perhaps I'll ask the good doctor if he has a tonic for my nerves as well." Aramis' laughter followed them both out the door.

The End

 

 

 

 


End file.
